Whisky and wigs
by keepcalmandreadhitchens
Summary: Haymitch can see right through Effie's cheery manner as she worries about her Tributes. My first Haymitch/Effie story, sorry it's so brief! A request from anon on tumblr. Please review if you enjoy, thank you! :


Effie clutched at her chest as she watched the screen, Katniss beginning to saw off the branch that the trackerjacker nest was attached to. She was seated in one of the main viewing rooms in the Capitol, engulfed in a sea of multicoloured wigs and outfits, watching unblinkingly as the trackerjacker nest fell onto the Careers below. She inhaled sharply as Katniss fell from the branch, dizzy from her stings. Effie's devoted attention to the Games was in stark contrast with those around her, who compared bets idly and admired the adorned food tables. A figure appeared in front of her, momentarily blocking the screen, and she hissed at them to move. The figure plonked down onto the couch next to her and she could tell who it was immediately from the smell of spirits.  
"How are our young lovers doing, hm?" Haymitch half-drawled to her, sipping what was clearly not his first drink of the day. Effie, who would've usually scolded him for putting his feet up, had her eyes fixated on the screen, but now turned to him, lip slightly wobbling.  
"Oh, Haymitch, I think... I think..." She trailed off hopelessly as she turned back in time to see Katniss stumbling into thick foliage. Haymitch watched the screen too, then looked at Effie and sighed, somewhat irritably. He knew this was only her second year, but surely she hadn't forgotten that 23 of these children had to die? He couldn't help but feel a bit sorry for her though, as she sat there in her ridiculous, electric blue wig and matching dress, biting her lip. He awkwardly put his hand on her back to comfort her.  
"Hey, who knows? We've got fighters this year. District 12 may just end up with a winner."  
Effie managed a weak smile as she watched Katniss find a temporary hiding place. She wondered wildly where Peeta was, then she suddenly realised Haymitch's hand was on her back. She sat up a little bit, and Haymitch quickly removed his hand, to Effie's slight dismay. She knew it was only Haymitch, but he did provide some comfort. People around them began clearing as the action on-screen had begun to disappear. Haymitch directed an audible noise of disgust at the crowd and got to his feet, making an effort to stay balanced. He took a gulp of his drink and looked at Effie, who looked calmer as she delicately sipped her glass of water, collecting herself. She was slightly embarrassed that Haymitch had seen her worked up over the Games like that. She cleared her throat and stood up as well, smoothing her dress.  
"Well, I suppose I shall see you tomorrow then!" she said, attempting a cheerier tone. Haymitch smiled sadly at her.  
"It'll get better, sweetheart. Promise."  
Her smile faded as he walked away, downing the rest of his drink, scanning the vicinity for an Avox with a food tray. Effie waited until he was out of sight, then burst into tears. Haymitch, although not visible to Effie, heard her whimpering. He turned as if to go back, but stopped himself, instead managing to walk unsteadily to the elevator, which he then proceeded to pass out in.

Haymitch didn't see Effie until around lunchtime the next day. She sat at one of the dining tables, deep in conversation with Portia. Haymitch, slightly hungover, couldn't help but flinch as he took in her attire for today: a bold orange, satin dress with a gold sash, a matching orange wig and gold shoes. He didn't even bother looking closely at her make up; he knew it'd also be colour-co ordinated. He sat down opposite her and Portia, and grabbed a bread roll. Portia saw him, smiled and nodded, but Effie was clearly too engaged in the conversation topic to notice.  
"Afternoon, sweetheart," said Haymitch, clearing his throat. Effie jumped slightly.  
"Oh, Haymitch, hello!" she said brightly. "I was just discussing with Portia how our tributes are going." Her voice had an upbeat tone, but Haymitch knew she was still concerned. He nodded, biting into his bread roll, and said through a mouthful of bread "they seemed to be doing alright last night, didn't they Effie?". Effie looked at him briefly in a slightly disapproving manner and turned to Portia.  
"Yes, well, I think Katniss managed to shake up the Careers a bit. Not sure how Peeta's going though. Cinna said he was hiding, which is... fairly strategic for now, I suppose..." she trailed off and started fiddling with her napkin. Haymitch ate the rest of his bread roll, and reached for the whiskey. Effie managed to give him another disapproving glance as Portia stood up, adjusting her wig.  
"Well, I have a meeting with Octavia I must get to!" she said. "I'll see you two later, no doubt." She smiled at them both and hurried off on her stilettos. Haymitch poured himself a drink as he watched Effie, still fiddling with her napkin. He noticed her food was basically untouched, and her face, beneath layers of make up, looked gaunt and exhausted.  
"Effie?" He spoke gently. "Effie, are you alright?"  
She said nothing as a single tear slid down her cheek. Haymitch put down his glass, leaned across the table and hesitantly put his hand on top of hers. She inhaled sharply. Despite her miserable thoughts, she couldn't help but feel comforted as his warm, rough hand lay on top of her smooth, delicate one. More tears began streaming down her face as she sat, frozen. He was at a loss for soothing words, so he joked "Careful sweetheart, you'll ruin your make up if you keep that up."  
She let out a small giggle, but then quickly got to her feet, horrified. Haymitch panicked, thinking something horrible was happening, and it wasn't until she retrieved her face powder and brush that he realised.  
"Are you bloody kidding me?" he blurted out. He suddenly wanted to rip that stupid wig right off her head. She looked wounded as she stopped in her tracks, her eye make up slightly ruined from her tears. He got up and strode over to her angrily. She stepped back, slightly uneasy as he approached, and he knocked the powder and brush right out of her hands.  
"Oh, really Haymitch, you don't have to act like a child ALL THE TIME!" she said angrily, as she put her hands on her hips and looked at her expensive make up that lay on the ground. An Avox rushed over to retrieve it for her, but Haymitch wasn't paying attention. He was observing Effie's (now irritated) face, streaks where her tears had run, blotchy eye make up and slightly flushed cheeks. He noticed that without her face perfectly painted, she looked young, no older than twenty five, he thought. She stood in front of Haymitch, hands still on her hips, glaring at him, as if waiting for an explanation for his outburst. However, instead of offering her one, he leaned in, without thinking, put his hands on her cheeks and kissed her, right on her bright orange lips.


End file.
